Falling Lines in Pleasant Places

People have asked me how I proposed to Susan and I thought I would follow up the last post with this one detailing that event. So here it is:

I had decided to ask this past Sunday because it was our 2 year 4 month anniversary/monthiversary and 2 year anniversary from the first time I told her I loved her. We were going to celebrate our anniversary so I figured I could make it on this day, make it special, and not be too obvious about my intentions (though she could see it coming a bit).

We went to Williamsburg, the beautiful historic colonial town, which is one of her favorite places. I had only been there once, so I didn't know the city very well and I was hoping to ask her in a special place. After we ate at a nice restaurant in Williamsburg we went walking and I started looking for a sign for the perfect location. Susan and I passed this nice garden of which she said, "This is my favorite garden of all time." Susan likes to use Hyperbole so I, like Gideon, was looking for at least one more sign for confirmation. Entering into the little white picketed fence area, Susan said, "I have thought about getting married here." Fiery writing on the wall couldn’t have been clearer. There was a tree that gave the garden its only shade, which was a blessed thing considering the heat was unbearable.

I had thought about everything, the nice note, Williamsburg, the nice meal, writing our story out on facebook, everything but the actual words I would say in that moment. I put my arms around her and started telling her how much I loved her and wanted to spend every day with her for the rest of my life and lingering I finally decided to get down on one knee and propose. I was so nervous I fiddled about with the ring and I think I had even attempted to put it on her right hand. She gave me a hug, while I was on one knee. There we were in this beautiful garden her down there with me in my proposed stance, the ring still in my hand, and it was better than I had imagined. Needing a confirmation, I asked, "so is that a yes?" to which she so fervently replied, "yes."

The garden was in a secluded area though I believe besides the angels in heaven we had one witness that was dressed up like a colonial man. He didn’t seem that excited.

We walked around a bit, though because of the heat punishing two British descendants with their cursed pale skin, we decided to leave and come back during the Fall to take pictures at a more congruous time. Later that night we celebrated with her family and it was a joyous feast and celebration.

Dates are still being considered but we are looking at sometime in the fall/winter. I realize this is vague but we only have a vague idea having to maneuver around work and school.

One of my favorite psalms is Psalm 16. Verse six says, “The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.” I am not even sure in what context the psalmist writes or if this is the right interpretation but I have always imagined times like this as the perfect description of lines falling in pleasant places. Surprised with so much joy I can see the lines falling all around me in the pleasant places that surround me (That rhyme is dedicated to Matt Baker). With each step in this path of uncertainty in many areas of life, it is beautiful to see how God has ordered things. Looking back I see how He had marked out the journey from the beginning and in this season things seem to be coming together in a supernatural way that only He could design.

The last two posts have a been a bit on the estrogen side so the next post will be about killing bears with bare hands and what not.

Her

I write this in the hopes of asking Susan Hall to be my wife. Everyone has a story and this is the greatest one I have ever been a part of. We have always referred to it as “our story” but for me I have seen it as “the story of her.”

In February 2007, I went to Richmond, VA for a training to prepare me to go overseas for two years. I had graduated from Auburn University and had completed a summer in Ukraine. There were many singles there doing the same program, male and female, and I went into the training with full intention to not look to the left or the right and stay single. In all reality, I had messed up so often in relationships and had been out of one for awhile at this point. This was a two year commitment and I had resigned myself to staying single. “Many are the plans of a man’s heart but the will of the LORD prevails.”

Of course one of the first days I ran into her and the first thing I noticed about her was her blue eyes. I was helpless in that moment and still have yet to recover. There was this immediate attraction that I had not felt in a long time and it was quite confusing. Here I was about to go overseas for two years, was happy to be committed to singleness for that time and this girl comes along and changed everything.

The training was for two months and of those two months I struggled daily for a couple of weeks on what to do. I prayed and read and fasted to find out if it was right to pursue it. The main problem of this season was that she was going to one place meaning she hung out with a certain group and I was going to another place which my group was totally different. I was in the uncool region, the South American region, and there were only four of us. Hardly enough for a sufficient clique. I could never get a chance to get to know her sufficiently to see if there was something there.

I kept trying to talk with her, get to know her, be around her but she was oblivious to all my subtle advances. Ironically enough it wasn’t subtle to any of her friends who then asked if I had a crush. It was 7th grade all over again. I denied it of course and then went through this excruciating phase where I tried to avoid her because I didn’t want a “distraction to my call.” I would feel good about it, even empowered, and she would come up and talk to me, or I would have some small look from her that would encourage me to go on putting me in a miserable plight. Susan, of course, was oblivious to all of this.

My poor friends had to hear all the tales of woe as we shot nerf basketball on a plastic hoop in my room. The very thing I feared had come true. She had become a distraction. I finally started to avoid her fervently and focus on my commitment. I am sure I was even rude and awkward in my avoidance. There was even a week or so that I had fully convinced myself that I didn’t care anymore.

Somehow it all came flooding back with about two weeks left to go. I was burdened with this feeling for a girl I knew very little about. Up to this point I was afraid of being rejected, but my biggest fear became going to South America and always wondering “what if?” With ten days left I decided to lay it on the line and go for it. I had nothing to lose at this point and at the very least I would know.

I asked her if we could talk after dinner. I can say, honestly, that I didn’t expect much to come of it but went into this last valiant charge with a readiness for being utterly shot down. My verse for the occasion was:
“The steps of a man are established by the LORD, when he delights in his way; though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the LORD upholds his hand.”

We went for a walk to the swings, of which mine was too small for me as I sat there awkwardly and uncomfortable throughout the conversation. I basically apologize for avoiding her or being awkward. I said it was because I liked her a lot and did not know what to do with the feelings. I had even prayed that God would take the feelings away, but he didn’t. All I was left with was this wonderful burden and I had to see if there was something there. I told her that she was beautiful and wonderful and if she had nothing for me that was alright I just wanted her to know that. She said that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever told her and asked me, “now what?” The most I had ever hoped up to that point was to just get to know her. She was very honest with me that she didn’t share the same feelings but she would like to get to know me as well to see if it would lead somewhere.

For those next ten days we hung out intentionally and talked and told stories. It was wonderful. To begin with I thought we were very different or that she wouldn’t be attracted to a guy like me. I play sports (which I have learned music seems to be a more profitable means to attracting women) and the music I did listen to was of a harder nature than hers. Those are just external examples, but as time went it still seemed crazy as ever especially starting something before a two year overseas commitment. But the Lord leads us down paths that make no sense so that at the end of the day we can truly recognize His hand guiding and leading the whole way.

Her honesty was such a wonderful thing to begin with. We both were very honest. I told her how my feelings grew daily and she told me that she was just not there yet. At that point I was not even fazed because I was being considered at the very least. Honesty in the tough things made me sure of all the good things she told me, so I always appreciated that and appreciate it still. The night before we were to leave she told me she felt the same way for me and we held hands for the first time and I kissed her cheek. The next day I hugged her one last time and did not see her again for one year, ten months, and fifteen days.

During that time I was in the jungles and mountains of South America and Susan was in a very dangerous place in Africa. We communicated through Skype and email whenever we could. There were many times we didn’t get to speak at all. I had training for three and a half months of which we talked twice. She was so gracious with me and she humbled me by her patience and steadfastness. Writing this now I can only explain that it worked because of God’s grace. We recognize it at the time as crazy but we were also confident if this was from the Lord He would bring us to the other side.

The one great thing about long distance is that you have to get to know the person with little or no distraction. I had had this preconceived idea of this “perfect girl,” the unicorn, or mythical creature of some kind. “The One” even. And as I said before there seemed to be all these external differences that ended up being just preferences and in reality we had more in common than we thought. The most beautiful thing though was the more I got to know Susan the more I realized she was everything I was looking for from the beginning. The one who would complement me and I her. I didn’t even know it but the LORD did and He directed my heart to her.

Susan was the first to put the "relationship status" on facebook. We told each other “I love you” for the first time on July 26. We have celebrated the 26th of every month as our anniversary. I cannot think of how many letters Susan wrote me. That was the most precious thing for me. When I was out on a trip the most exciting moments were waiting on Gmail to upload my messages and I would see all the ones from her with the golden star next to them. They were eloquent, thoughtful, descriptive, and lovely. They embodied her in every way and I got to know her in such a way I thought not possible. Though I wouldn’t trade anything for our dating season now, seeing her face, taking her to restaurants, going on walks, I would not trade anything for that season of writing letters.

We had many a tough season as well and it was good to see how we looked in that. We got through them and that made me all the more confident for the days to come. More than anything, however, she gave me so much joy. Always light in the midst of darkness, hope in the midst of despair. The LORD blessed me beyond anything I could ever have imagined. I could not truly define grace before Susan. I regret not one day from the day I met her and I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

On Febrary 20, 2009, we saw each for the first time since April 4, 2007. We had tried to anticipate how awkward our first encounter would be or even the first couple of weeks of seeing each other in the new dynamic of actually "dating." She had become my best friend through our conversations on the phone and through letters but it was going to be interesting how that would translate to face-to-face interaction. When I first stepped out of my car that cold night in Yorktown, we hugged for an eternity, an embrace I had only dreamed about in South America, and the path had led me up to this moment had been confirmed. The weirdest thing was that it wasn't weird at all. We were so comfortable with each as if we had been doing that all along. The LORD had brought us together in every way possible.

We are now in Wake Forest, NC. I am going to seminary and we hope to pursue the ministry in some shape, form, or fashion wherever the LORD leads. If this is posted then it must mean that she said yes. Another testimony to grace. She is far above me in every way; the most beautiful, most gentle, sweetest, loveliest person I know. She is my best friend who knows me better than anyone else and I’d have it no other way. I love her. I love her more than I thought possible on this side of heaven and there is no one else I'd rather spend the rest of my life with. I praise God for her.

There is much more to this story and this is basically the cliff notes version. For the sake of brevity and Trent Jones I have tried my best to be concise and not long-winded. I have always tried to write about the Greatness of God, His mercy, His Grace, His miracles and workings in my life, and I can think of no other story that clearly depicts all of that than this one. The story of her.

Our Strong Tower

When I was in South America I had to memorize stories in Spanish as part of our method to reaching the indigenous. The very first story I learned, ironically enough, was the Tower of Babel. I remember being quite angry at those fools for thinking they could reach heaven by making a tower. God had to literally come down to see this ridiculous attempt at greatness. As punishment for their disobedience he confused the language making many. And thus punishing me. I thought, “it is because of them I am having to suffer through learning this story in another language.”

I did, however, grow to love this story. Of course it is sad if the story ends there but to see the story of God’s redemption of man it is many stories that make up a beautiful tapestry of love and grace. It is amazing how in this story we can see God making all things beautiful.

Later, in my training for Xtreme Team, I was in the jungle learning how to be a missionary with twelve Latinos and among them there were many different indigenous groups with their own indigenous language. One of the most sublime experiences happened during the nights when we would sing and dance in a circle, rejoicing in unison as the Body of Christ. If anyone knows me at all they know I don’t sing or dance so well and will do my best to avoid any and all opportunities. But even this was too much for my prudery. It was celestial or heavenly. There was just something of awe and wonder about God being praised in many different languages. Though I didn’t understand most of their hymns God did and I am confident it made Him smile.

He took the one language which was wrongly used and He turned all the languages into beautiful symphony of praises of His everlasting kindness. He destroyed an inadequate tower built to unite the people and He became the sole, inexorable, unifier through Christ. He showed that only His Name is worthy to be praised by having to descend from heaven just to view feeble attempts at greatness. He takes all of our efforts as ugly as they are and turns them into works of art. He is our Strong Tower who works in us and through us for His Name.

I will never forget lying in my hammock as my Latino partners strummed the worst out-of-tune guitar in the whole world singing in a dialect I would never understand in a pitch that probably should never be sung and I thought it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever heard.

*The story of the Tower of Babel comes from Genesis 11:1-9.

A Story to Tell

Gracious, it has been a long time since I have written here. I have wondered if there was a faithful remnant that had occasionally checked this page and I had imagined that with each passing visit they were met with such consistent disappointment. I wish I could give a good reason for the delay. There are reasons, though none of which I am confident are good.

I am no longer a missionary in the jungles and mountains of South America, and though that is infinitely more romantic than working at a Book Publisher in Wake Forest, North Carolina, I hope that I will always have something to write about. I am now in Wake Forest, North Carolina, where I am pursuing the next season of my life. In the fall I will start school at Southeastern Seminary. Susan is here with me and we are both trying to see the Lord’s will manifested here and now.

The here and now is all we truly have as my good friend, Jack, says, “The present is the only time in which any duty can be done or grace received.” Here and now I am, and here and now I will write. I hope that in whatever context I find myself in I always see life through the context of the Glory of God. He is the Author of Life and He is writing my story. Everyone has a story and every story is worth telling.

This blog has become a way to tell my story and I have appreciated all those who have taken interest. In this chapter of my life I find myself in a season of preparation. I am truly excited about all the possibilities that lie before me but I hope I set my feet on the path to get to there. We are not, however, promised tomorrow so our daily bread must be asked for and eaten so we can work heartily as to God and not to men.

I don’t want to miss this season by staring into the next. “Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” I want to grow and learn and I realize that growing comes with pain. Every good story has conflict and it is necessary to get to the resolution. I hope to find strength in my conflicts and grace to trust His hand, to be resolved throughout. Sharing my story is a way of keeping me accountable; to always see how God is moving, and how I am moving in Him.

I hope there might be a reader or two out there still interested. If not, that is okay, because I will keep writing. Uncle Hoppy, a British minister during the time of Brother Andrew, used to preach faithfully every Sunday whether there were people or not, to empty chairs. He preached because of the desire borne in Him from God. Christ was His treasure and He shared regardless of the audience. I hope to be as faithful.